As always THANK YOU for the reading, faving, following and reviews :) You're fantastic.

(Sarah) Yeah, I thought simple would be fine for now (not that it will last long). I'm glad you liked it. :)

(Nataly SkyPot) Thank you.

(dipgizzard) Thank you so much. I'm glad you think so :D

(Guest) I know, that would be logical, and very very convincing. And one can't forget about Mycroft's... er... mycroft-ness for even a moment. They will get a definite proof soon, don't worry.

CHAPTER 7

Well, at least the laughing died down, thought Harry Potter, while he waited for some kind of reaction from the shell-shocked pair.

When no one said anything, Mycroft stood up. "Well, as entertaining as this is, I need to go. Things will not get done by themselves. Harry, I trust you can wrap it up without my presence."

"But, wait –" started Harry watching the man pleadingly.

He didn't – instead he left the three people in awkward silence.

"Er," started the abandoned man, not really knowing how to get them to react. "I guess I should have expected him to do that, right?" Nothing. "Well... okay," he sighed. "Will you just say something?" he asked, playing with his wand distractedly. "I understand this is weird... finding about magic so suddenly, but..."

That at least got Sherlock Holmes out of his trance. "Magic is not real!" he hissed through clenched teeth, looking at the skull from every angle, trying to disprove this ridiculousness.

"I am afraid it is," said Harry apologetically. "I know this is a lot to take in. I wish your brother foreshadowed it somehow. I'm sure you would have no problem picking it up and at least start suspecting something... so it won't be all dropped at you at once. But then, you saw a body killed by the Avada Kedavra. That must have been suspicious to you."

John was coming out of his shock too. "Ava-what?" He glanced hopelessly at Sherlock, expecting him to tell the man off and kick him and his bloody tricks out of their flat, but he just seemed to be resigned to hearing the lunatic out.

"That's a curse," explained Harry. "It's illegal to use it, of course."

"But how does it kill?" asked Sherlock, latching onto the subject of potential new murder weapon instantly, still clutching the skull.

"It just kills you," shrugged Harry. "No counter-course and the only way to avoid it, is to duck or hide behind something. There is no apparent cause of death. That's why it so easily stirs the attention of Muggles. It's unexplainable for them. Thankfully, the interest always dies down after a while, when they are unable to discover anything that would give them any answers."

"This is completely against logic," insisted Sherlock. "Just waving a stick around and things happen!"

John however was concerned about another part of the explanation. "So say I believe you," he said. "You want to tell me that you have something that can kill instantly, without leaving a trace and you don't even have a proper protection against it?"

"Well, sadly yes," replied Harry quietly. "But John, I believe the Muggles have some gruesome ways to kill people too, as you're aware – which is not to say that the curse is not a horrible thing. It is awful. But just as all Muggles don't go around shooting people, Wizards and Witches don't do that either. And it leaves a trace. We're notified immediately after a spell is used in a Muggle's vicinity. Then an investigation like you're used to follows."

"Not everyone has a gun... or other weapons," protested the doctor, drawn into the debate against his better judgement. "But I bet everyone has those sticks."

"Yes, every witch and wizard has a wand," agreed Harry. "But not everyone has the skills and most importantly the desire. The intent with this spell is everything. We're not monsters, John, despite what you might be imagining. I assure you, that we are the same as Muggles."

"Are you?" asked John sceptically, imagining other loons walking around being convinced they are wizards.

Harry shrugged, "We go to school, learn things, get jobs, and have families; it's all quite simple, really, though the magic is added to it. But there is no difference in anything that would matter."

"That is all nice," grumbled Sherlock, secretly disappointed that according to this explanation there was no fascinating mystery involved in Milverton's murder. But despite that the idea of magic still didn't settle down. "But it doesn't make magic logical." He glared at the skull as if it committed an unspeakable betrayal.

"It really depends on how you look at it," tried to explain Harry. "Trust me, magic has many rules too, it's not all about 'waving a stick around', as you said earlier. But I am not going into the discussion about how it all works with you. Merlin, you would destroy me and I am supposed to be the one who knows more about the subject," he tried to lighten the situation, but it didn't seem to work. "Anyway, what I want to say is – don't let yourself to be limited. If you just look at what is known to Muggles right now, then yes, it seems impossible. But plenty of things you have now would have been thought witchcraft just a hundred years ago. So, why not believe in our kind of magic too? I... heard about you and then read your website and John's too – I understood then why your brother thought you ought to know. And that's why I know that no matter how improbable you think magic is, you saw it and know it's not a trick – you have been inspecting that skull of yours quite thoroughly for the past few minutes – and so would have no problem accepting it, after the initial surprise wears off... Then you will probably go and try to find the answers to the most complex questions." This time his comment was received more positively.

"What's the word you keep using?" asked Sherlock with less hostility now, though the whole concept still rattled him. John knew that stroking the man's genius was a way to get to him. He was only surprised their visitor grasped it so quickly and efficiently. Okay, so maybe he sounded a bit convincing to John too – he didn't waver for once and had an answer ready for any question they asked so far... and why did he need to look so bloody sincere?

"What? A Muggle?" asked Harry. Sherlock nodded. "It's a term used for non-magical people."

"Derogatory?"

"Some may think so. But it's not meant that way," replied Harry without hesitation.

"So it – the magic – how does it works?" asked John deciding to just go with it and ignore the small voice that still tried to convince him that this is just an elaborate hoax. "I mean can everyone do that?"

"Actually, you need to be born with the skill. It cannot be learned otherwise. And it's most probably hereditary," said Harry. "Though children with magic can be born to Muggles – they are called Muggle-borns then. One of my best friends is one and she was interested in this subject some years ago. There is a theory that Muggle-born children have some ancestor down the line who possessed magic and it just got repressed. Of course it can happen in reverse too – when a child without magic is born to magical parents. I honestly don't know more about it, but I am sure Hermione would be delighted to discuss this subject... or any other subject you might be interested in, really..."

"This Hermione," asked Sherlock noticing him to say the name for the second time. Possibly Weasley's wife considering he knows Weasley. "You mentioned her before."

"Yeah," admitted Harry. "She is one of my best friends. I met her at Hogwarts. She has a brilliant mind and would be the best person to answer any question you might have. I'm sure you'll meet her soon enough."

"So Hogwarts, that's... a school?" asked John. Despite his decision he still couldn't quite believe it. He was discussing magic... for real. And just when he thought his life cannot get more bizarre.

"Yes, we attend it for seven years – since we're eleven. It's a great place. Though not always the safest, but as I mentioned I made friends for life there," said Harry enthusiastically.

"John, you can find out about the undoubtedly interesting school life of Mr. Potter later, but we really should talk about the case," sneered Sherlock suddenly, not really wanting to be dragged into a dull reminiscence of boring childhood when there were other things to be discussed. He got distracted for a moment, but really who wouldn't in a situation like this? But now, he was once again fully focused on what mattered.

John glared at him, but didn't protest... not that it would have helped him, if he did.

"Ah, yes," nodded Harry. "I'm afraid I won't be much help right now. As you said before, I just arrived from abroad and had no idea there was murder investigation going on. But tomorrow..."

"That's not really what I was going to ask about," Sherlock said, surprising him. John found that surprising too – since when did Sherlock Holmes care about other things when there was murder involved?

"No?" wondered the wizard.

"Indeed, no," smiled Sherlock falsely, but dropped it almost instantly. "I want to know what gave you the idea to approach me. Though you're quite high-ranked, your superiors don't really want... Muggles," he tasted the new term on his tongue, saying it for the first time, "involved. So I am naturally curious."

"Oh, of course you would be interested in that..." started Harry, "I guess that can be explained fully before I go. I still need to visit the bookshop after all and would like to get home eventually. And you must have things planned for today too, so I won't be bothering you for much longer. Besides, my main task for today, which was to give you brief introduction to our world and to get you used to the idea of magic, so we can work on the actual problem tomorrow, was accomplished I think..." he trailed off hopefully.

"I don't think I have anything else scheduled. My day is rather flexible," replied Sherlock nonchalantly, a familiar gleam in his eyes – John knew that he should be wary of what is about to follow. "And since you insist on wasting time by refusing to start the investigation today – it's quite clear you will not budge no matter how hard I might press, quite troublesome really... I think it would be a good idea to at least accompany you to your destination – I believe the place you are going to – the bookshop – is magical?" He waited for Harry to nod warily, then continued, pointing at himself and John, "We need to understand magic, and how better to learn about all this than by experiencing it? After all, Mycroft chose you, because he trusted you enough to explain things properly. Wouldn't he be disappointed if he found out you failed your task?"

"Sherlock!" admonished John, his manners kicking in. Honestly... as if he cared if Mycroft would be disappointed or not. And that wasn't what Mycroft said – no word about a wizarding tour left his lips (which was too bad, John thought it was a rather good idea – if only to prove to himself that he didn't make a mistake by listening to this man). No, Mycroft just thought Harry would manage his younger brother without losing his temper or sanity. "We can't impose – he was abroad and is just returning home, you said so yourself – leave the man alone. Just look at him. Of course he would want to take at least a small break for today..."

But Harry surprisingly didn't take this way out; instead he just waved his concerns away with a snort. "I certainly hope I don't look that bad, but it's fine. It's not like I didn't expect something like this. I just thought that I ought to try... Just let me send a message so they don't worry at home. I didn't have the time to do so yet." It was kind of obvious that his short visit to Diagon Alley won't be short at all.

"By all means," replied the detective generously now that he got what he wanted "Do you have a phone? Or do you need to borrow John's?"

"Hey," protested the doctor. "Not that I would mind," he assured Harry, "but Sherlock, you just don't offer stuff that don't belongs to you."

"Whyever not?" asked the man innocently.

Harry just gave them a mischievous smile. "Thanks, but I can take care of that." He took his wand out and, to the amazement of the pair, he produced a magnificent silver stag. He stood up and approached it so the tip of the wand was almost touching the snout, then after a few seconds the glowing animal leaped through the closed window and on the street without a warning.

John jumped out of his chair to look out, but the stag was nowhere to be seen.